A New Haunt
by yourecoolerthanme
Summary: Skip comes up with a new plan to conquer and haunt Club Penguin, and it's going to involve demonic possession and patience. Rated T just to be safe. (this fic is officially dead, don't expect it to update anytime soon)
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

**AN: hi, i'm new to this so uh, any errors or tips on improving my writing would mean a lot, if you have any questions or something feel free to ask**

The Cube was one of Skip's favorite places to go to during rough times. Even though he didn't need to eat or drink, Whistler's drinks were some of the best he'd ever had. The best part about the Cube? It wasn't too popular, so there wasn't much chance of bumping into anyone he knew. Sometimes lowlifes would go there looking for a fight, and while Skip wasn't one to get in fights, feeding off the rage and fear was a nice way for a quick meal, and it always came as a pleasant surprise.

But this time, Skip wasn't happily pondering what sort of fight might be going down. No, he'd just failed in conquering Club Penguin, which came as a major blow to his ego. Kiddie dimensions were known for being difficult to conquer, but how hard could it be? Very hard, as he'd recently learned.

Skip slammed down his empty cup. "So that's my situation, Whistler. You get my struggle?"

"Sounds harsh, buddy," Whistler said, idly polishing one of the bar's fancy glasses. "You done with your drink?"

"Yeah," Skip said, handing Whistler the cup. "I hope the cups aren't taking up too much space in the back."

"Nah, nah, it's fine, buddy. Lotta patrons have been askin' for 'em lately, don'tcha know. Easier to slam dramatically than glasses, and all."

Whistler looked like a cute, stereotypical bedsheet ghost, except she had a little bowtie on to keep a sort of barkeep look to herself. The only reason she was able to run the Cube alone without having it torn to shambles was that under her "bedsheet," she had a violent, self-controlled plasma ball that she could use like a gun if fights ever got out of hand.

"Thanks for hearing me out, Whistler. But do you have any ideas on how I can beat those stupid penguins?"

Whistler began polishing Skip's cup. "You know I'm not a conquering type, Skipper."

Skip smiled a bit at the nickname. "Well, yeah, but you're still pretty smart. I mean, you've been able to run an interdimensional bar for, what, 20 billion years now? And there haven't been any big incidents in eons!"

"Runnin' a respectable bar and conquerin' dimensions for status are two really different things, Skip. But, uh, I think I've got an idea."

"What is it?" Skip asked, leaning over the counter a little.

"You said Club Penguin's one of those video game places, right? Where the player gets to solve the problems all the time?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Well, uh, what if you just kept your plan among the non-player characters? Like private bidness, y'know," Whistler said, soon whistling a repetitive melody she liked.

Skip's eyes lit up. That sounded so simple! Instead of fooling players, why not fool the mascots? Pure genius! Even if they got players involved (like they usually did), he could at least traumatize one and do some damage, maybe. But there was a small hole in that plan.

"How the heck am I gonna do that?"

Whistler stopped whistling and gave Skip a tired look. "I'm not a god, Skipper. Or a genius. Can't ya just shapeshift into some new form and join the, uh, what'd you call it..."

"The EPF?"

"Yeah, yeah, that."

Skip put his elbows on the table and pouted, or at least tried to pout with his weird jagged lips. "That'd take work, and it was already work enough to convince everyone at the Puffle Hotel that I was a hardworking Club Penguin citizen the first time. Convincing experienced agents and detectives and stuff? Blegh."

"Well geez, Skip!" Whistler finished cleaning Skip's cup, and set to work preparing a drink that'd been ordered earlier. "You've got me stumped! What's the easiest dang way you can trick NPCs without setting off any cop alarms? Turning into a piffle or whatever you called 'em?"

Skip glowered a bit. "They're puffles."

Whistler sighed and finished pouring the elaborate cocktail and passed it to its respective patron, a floating hexagon with a top hat and mustache. "You're on your own, buddy. Maybe do that, uh, hiding-out-in-their-minds thing you did a couple millennia ago?"

Skip immediately sat up. Possession, an oldie but a goldie. How had he not thought of it before? Possess an agent, or a puffle or something, then hide out and take control once he had enough knowledge. It could totally work!

"Oh my God, Whistler, you're a genius."

"Shucks, Skips. I'd be blushin' if I could."

Skip was literally glowing with excitement. "Seriously, though, thanks! Good drinks, as always." Skip took off his hat and reached into it, quickly taking out a small block of gold and handing it to Whistler. "This is my last one, but you deserve it, Whistles. You're a soulsaver!" Skip took off out the bar's exit.

Whistler quickly took the gold block and stashed it in the huge, old-fashioned register. "Hey, Hectorgon. Y'see that spectre that just flew out?"

Hectorgon nodded.

"He's one of the dumbest, most stubbornest, sorriest ghouls I know."


	2. Chapter 2: Backups

Possession doesn't always work like you see in movies. It all depends on the spirit that's doing the possessing, what dimension the possession's taking place in, the body of the host, and a ton of other things factor into how a possession goes.

Now, I don't mean to brag, but I'm a very lucky ghoul. If I'm careful, I can possess someone for months at a time without them ever knowing (unless they're really in-tune with their soul or something). You might be wondering, "Why the heck would anyone wanna do that?" Well, I don't possess people for months at a time very often, but trust me, it's really useful for incognito stuff where I have to replace whoever I'm possessing for a while. I get to memorize habits and routines and stuff, too, in case I have to deal with some Sherlock-type guy that can tell I'm not the real deal.

Anyway, back to the story. Blegh. The problem with Club Penguin is that there are a LOT of options for possession. How do kids keep up with all these characters? I did some research after Whistler helped me out, y'know, asking around the island for whatever bits and pieces I could pick up. I'm pretty sure I missed a few people, but I think I've got all the big shots down.

This is kind of off-topic, but I found out the hard way that I can't possess puffles. I mean, I could if I wanted to, but they're usually so simple-minded that they can tell there's something wrong the second I get in, and they always try to whine to their owner about it right after. Plus, their telekinesis is pretty weak, and they don't really have any cool skills that I know of.

Apparently there's some lughead living in the wilds? Everyone just calls him the "Sasquatch," which I think is a pretty fitting name. I possessed him for a while, and he's about as dim as a police dog. He knows his way around the wilds, though, and he knows how to navigate the underground tunnels. I didn't even know there were underground tunnels on Club Penguin! The more you know. On the downside, he's apparently one of those in-tune types that gets bad vibes whenever I'm around. Oh well. He'd still make for a good backup option.

The Sensei guy living in the mountain dojo place is smarter. I'm not even exaggerating, he IMMEDIATELY knew something was wrong the second I stepped foot (flipper? whatever) in his dojo. I'm staying far away from him.

Rockhopper's not an option, unless he decides to dock anytime soon. I've seen pictures of him with a cool sword, so I figure he must know something about combat. If I can't haunt Club Penguin, maybe I can consult him to see what other island options I have.

The Penguin Band's pretty useless. I guess the Franky dude could be useful? If I get caught, I could hide out in him until the coast is clear. He's got sensitive hearing, which could probably help if I have to figure out where stealth agents are.

Cadence is way too loud. The only soul that should be this loud and random in a not-funny way is a chaos god. Look, think about how you think. There's probably a song or a voice or a bunch of not-quite-worded thoughts just rolling around in your mind at any given moment, right? Cadence has that too, but she switches between things way faster and there's constantly at LEAST one song just BLARING. I don't even know if she sensed me because I was in and out of there in about five seconds.

PH is kinda like Cadence? I mean, I can tolerate her, but she's constantly thinking about puffles. Not even joking, I decided to stick around for almost a whole day just to see how much she thinks about them, and I can tell you as a FACT that PH spends about 4/5 of her day thinking about puffles in some form. She has some ties to the EPF, but I'm not considering her as an option, ever.

Possessing the top five EPF agents was kinda fun, but it was another level. It's hard to explain. I mean, when I possess a lot of people (penguins, in this case?), I start to notice certain trends in their souls, so later on I can go "oh, this soul's squeaky clean, it's probably just an average Club Penguin citizen," or "this soul's got a lot of things going on, they're probably smart." But the EPF agents were... something else, I can tell you that much.


	3. Chapter 3: Choosing

Okay, I _might_ have been exaggerating with the EPF a little. Not all of 'em were weird.

Dot was surprisingly normal? Like, full offense, everyone on Club Penguin is kind of weird. Dot's the most normal penguin I've possessed so far. Nothing big. She likes sewing and old movies and corporate pop songs (and I think she got that from Cadence). There's also a lot of stealth knowledge, she's really flexible, and she knows a lot of shortcuts and secret passages and stuff around the island. A good option for a getaway, if anything.

Rookie kinda reminds me of home. He's got the same loopy, non-sequitur, random thought process that some of my best buddies have, and his soul's not 100% stable. This is really weird, because I think he's the _only_ penguin with this. I managed to sneak into the EPF a while back (which was surprisingly easy?), and they have a manual about the agents for newbies. The manual said Rookie's got "special ties" to this place called "the Box Dimension," so I guess that's what's affecting him? It feels weird possessing him, plus I think he can kinda sense me. Smart kid.

Aunt Arctic. Good _lord_ , Aunt Arctic. That lady has so many issues. Her soul feels _wrong_ on every level and I swear to you, she was about to call me by _name_ when I'd only possessed her for about fifteen minutes. She's like Sherlock but what, ten times worse? The weirdest part was that when people sense me, they're usually confused or freaked out. No, this freak managed to stay completely, absolutely calm and _**knowing**_ the entire time. I am staying _far_ away from her, gee whiz. Aside from that, she likes tea, books, puffles, and I think advanced political, communication, and battle/combat strategies. What a gal.

Gary's a sad nerd in almost every way. While I have to admit that his smarts are centuries ahead of his time, this loser likes dinosaurs, he's scared of ghosts, and I get the feeling he hasn't been on a date for about ten years. The only redeeming quality I think he has is that he's a sucker for horror movies and he's cool with gore, which is probably the only quality I share with him.

Jet Pack Guy's way cooler, but he's so boring. You don't understand. Being inside this guy's mind is like being inside a library. It's super quiet and whatever movement or noise there is is usually just some stale thought like "I need to feed Flash," or "My jet pack could use a tune-up," or "Has Rookie checked in for his training yet?" His only past times are flying, writing about flying (I'm serious), working out, doing paperwork, and helping out at the EPF. Ugh.

I had a lot of trouble at first with choosing between Gary and Jet Pack Guy for my main host. With Jet, I have more access to the weapons and manpower of the EPF. With G, I get to look at the process and weaknesses for whatever inventions he makes.

You wanna know what helped me choose?

You gotta understand: I don't like scrawny hosts.

At least with Jet Pack guy, I don't have to deal with random math equations CONSTANTLY showing up and geeky, unnecessary facts and figures. Plus, G probably deals more with computer and coding stuff. I'm cool with math, just not coding, and especially not when it's a near-daily thing. And I know having a preference for stronger hosts might sound really vapid, but trust me, it's come in handy more than once.

Now I gotta actually possess him for more than an hour. This'll be fun.


	4. Chapter 4: Knowledge

Did you know Jet Pack Guy's super paranoid about everything? He's got a really fancy security system set up in his igloo for when he goes to sleep. Motion detectors, security cameras, the whole shebang. He's even got the whole system rigged to contact the EPF if it isn't turned off quickly enough.

I found all this out the hard way.

I don't know why, but with all the cool powers I have, I can't turn intangible. The closest I can do is turn into dense, green gas, and apparently that was enough to set off alarms.

So it was about three in the morning, and I set off these BLARING alarms and some bright red, rotating cop lights because I accidentally passed through a motion laser or something. My first reaction was to move under Jet's bed as fast as I could; not the coolest thing I could've done, but it was better than nothing.

As soon as I was under the bed, I heard a groan and then bed springs creaking. Jet got up from his bed and waddled over his work desk (he's got a work desk in his igloo, just to show how much of a ~party animal~ he is). Something clicked, and the blaring alarms and red lights turned off. He hesitated. I think he was looking around for what could've caused a disturbance? I dunno.

He started waddling (I hate using that word. Damn penguins.) back to his bed. I started fearing the worst and I crammed myself to the top of the bed's underside. Sure enough, Jet checks under the bed just to make sure. I guess the light was too dim for him to see me.

"Hm." Jet stood back up and gave his jet pack, which sat in its own puffle bed, a reassuring pat. "Stupid lasers," he mumbled. This grown man leads what is basically a kid-friendly military. I love kiddie dimensions.

After Jet got back into bed, I decided to wait until he started snoring. Sure enough, after a good half hour of me burning dust bunnies out of boredom, he's snoring like a lawnmower.

Possessing people while they're asleep is usually really easy. No resistance, usually no sensing me, and best of all, I get to dig around in their head without any weird reactions.

It's kind of hard to explain. The problem is, let's say I decide to possess Rookie while he's talking to JPG. Even if he doesn't sense me, if I try to find info on whatever weaknesses the Director has, Rookie would probably be freaked out because he's suddenly thinking about the Director instead of whatever he was thinking about while he was talking to JPG. Basically, I'm hijacking my host's train of thought.

Anyways, if I possess someone in their sleep, the only thing I'm hijacking is dreams, and dreams are already weird and fragmenty. And unless Jet keeps a dream journal, I doubt he's gonna start noticing how realistic and dull his dreams are gonna become. Dunno why, but apparently that's another effect of my sleep-possession.

I cleared my metaphorical throat. "EPF weaponry."

Minds are like Googles, lemme tell ya. Immediately, there's a bunch of blurry pictures and thoughts connected to what Jet knows about EPF weaponry.

 _Snowball and fish cannons. Stronger than they sound. Based on futuristic tech from 4014. The 1000 prototype ended up being too strong and fractured one of ribs. Some units of the 1k prototype are still kept around for emergencies. Current versions can still cause moderate to heavy bruising, numbness, and/or dizzyness._

That's not enough. I wanna push the E for Everyone rating here, dolt.

 _Robotic combat penguins. G's work. Still experimental, in the 2750 versions, more or less. Mostly used for trainees. One of the independent projects Director allowed post-Blackout. Most are connected to the control panel in the combat headquarters training room. Not useful fo-_

Waitwaitwait. Combat headquarters training room? Interesting.

"Combat headquarters ."

 _-3rd floor. Most agents cannot access it until given clearance. Clearance is only given to agents with at least 50% coding. Players n-_

Okay, I don't care for coding. The EPF has negative floors?

"EPF size."

 _Eight floors, counting top and bottom floors. Various hidden bases scattered throughout the island. Only Director knows where all bases are located. Seen four. Rookie and Dot've said there's at least-_

Slow down. Geez, I bet this guy just **loves** taking orders from people when he's awake. Most hosts aren't as responsive to this stuff.

This is getting boring. "Lethal weaponry."

 _Illegal. No known laser on Club Penguin can fully penetrate bone, much less muscle. Irresponsible use of blades highly discouraged and punishable by ban. All possibly lethal weapons from local villains have been either destroyed, repurposed, or on ICE._

What the hell? Is that an acronym?

"Weapons on ICE."

 _Puffle brain boxes. Used to mind control puffles. Power crystals. They give holders unusual powers. Remains of Herbert's inventions. Relatively useless, unless a gadgeteer like Herbert can get them. Classified crates from Director. Not sure what's in them. No one knows and there are only rumors._

Boy oh boy! What a **great** selection! I am just _beaming_ because of all the _**possibilities**_ here! Not. Gee whiz, are all kiddie dimensions this limited?

"Director crate rumors."

 _Have been said to hold Virus. Accidental fusion of computer and biological virus from early biological experimentation for party transformations. Intensely volatile. Known to take over hosts and spread very quickly. Incurable. Only option for infection is to delete host or contain them for more elaborate cleansing process._

Yikes. Okay, nevermind what I said about kiddie dimensions being limited. As cool as "Virus" or whatever sounds, I don't exactly want people getting "deleted." I can't feed off dead people if they don't get scared. Wait, Jet's still going.

 _...have been said to hold Gary's "independent" machines after Blackout. No evidence that he's gotten more violent since Blackout. Only more absentminded, shorter temper but still performs just as badly in combat training. No longer allowed to follow through independent projects without Director's permission and supervision. Rookie assigned to help G and supervise him "undercover." G gets antsy when asked about crates._

Whoa. Wait, wait wait waaaaait. This is getting really interesting now.


	5. Chapter 5: Morning

**AN: merry chrismas heres an upd8. i am a slow man**

Okay, when I was testing everyone out for long-term possession, I was possessing them while they were awake. Looking back, this probably wasn't the best idea. Maybe PH secretly dabbles in black magic sometimes, or maybe Rookie's in charge or guarding some all-powerful nuke on weekends, and I wouldn't really know because they never thought about it while I possessed them. (Though the EPF probably doesn't have anything close to a nuke, and PH rarely does anything that doesn't involve puffles somehow.)

I guess I could go back and repossess everyone in their sleep... but that'd take too long. There's also the off-chance that some might notice their dreams changing because of me, and I do not need that. Besides, I could still work with JPEG here. Just a few more minutes of questioning is all.

"Gary's independent projects."

 _Due to Herbert's involvement in Operation: Blackout, and how G's blueprints were used for Herbert's benefit, Gary is no longer allowed to work on anything that could be easily used for nefarious purposes. Even if the good outweighs the possible bad, he still has to work on the project in the EPF labs._

Poor guy. Can't work on stuff alone.  
What was that random bit about violence before? What's a Blackout?

"Operation: Blackout."

I don't know how, but JPG started spewing more information faster than I could handle. He's probably bitter about it. From what I understood, that stupid Herbert guy managed to kidnap the top five EPF agents? Must be more capable than I thought. Still, the fact that he's failed by putting an "off" button on his machines multiple times says something about him. He probably underestimated the EPF, too, but the fact that he keeps doing it is sheer stupidity.  
I let Jet cool down before asking him my last question.

"Gary post-Blackout violence."

 _After the Blackout, G started acting strange. More forgetful, not as tidy, using lower-level vocabulary, and somewhat shorter temper. Started proposing more serious inventions to the Director. Gary has stated that improper freezing during the Blackout for two weeks damaged his brain. Director has worried about this, but the threat is relatively low._

Damn. Coulda used a rogue G.  
Eh, I guess that's all I need. I sat back and let Jet go back to his usual dreaming. Something about joining an alien society, I think? Dreams are weird. I messed around with it until the dream showed Jet getting eaten alive by aliens. Can you believe that managed to spook him awake? He woke up sweating and gasping for a few moments.

Probably shouldn't give him nightmares again for a while.

It was 5:35 AM, so I guess that was enough for Jet. He started going through his morning routine, thoughts buzzing around in his head of what he might see on his daily patrol of the skies, and what might happen at the EPF today, and where that freaky dream could've possibly come from in his mind. Heh.

You remember that thing I said about how I don't like searching hosts when they're awake because it seems unnatural? There's another thing I don't like doing: talking to the host while they're awake. It seems like they have a highly detailed, sentient, rebellious voice in their head, so then they'll go to the therapist, and then they get scared and stressed and start rebelling against me, which I don't want.  
But, if I'm really careful, I can make it sound like I'm a part of them. Idle morning thinking like this is a good time.

I waited until Jet's thoughts shifted back to the EPF.

 _Hopefully tactics training goes well today. I really think Rookie might've been paying attention last time. I wonder if they fixed the coffee machine? The Director's so quiet lately._

"Maybe I should ask G about his projects."

 _Nah, that'd probably be dull. Gary's been looking sort of grouchy lately. Probably from the best coffee machine being broken. I really need to dry-clean my suits._

I feel like this isn't gonna go anywhere anytime soon. I'll probably get more results if I possess G for a night. Switching between hosts really isn't any fun and they might notice something off with their mental state.  
May as well take advantage of this "tactics training" or whatever.

"The Director might do really well in tactics today."

 _Might? That's stupid. Fighting the Director's a formality. She almost always wins anyway._  
Jet tucked in his tie and waddled out the door. I heard several clicks as all the fancy locks went into place, and Jet took off.

I probably shouldn't talk again. The Director thing unsettled him a little.

Having to lean back and look at everything through the eyes of your host for hours at a time is usually super boring. I guess the view of CP from the skies was nice, but I can fly anyway. Nothing new.  
Jet spotted some oddly-shaped footprints and dropped down a little.  
 _Walrus shape. Tusk. Note to self: update the Director on this._  
He flew back up and circled the island again, and then did something I wasn't expecting.  
Jet floored his jet pack, breaking through the layer of clouds so fast they practically slapped him in the face. He laughed a little and turned until he was facing the sun.

What the hell? I thought this guy was all business.  
Whatever. Hidden depths amIright? Club Penguin doesn't even have a sunrise or sunset most of the time.  
Last time I talk to him for a while.  
"What's this for?"  
 _Funnest thing I get to do all day. The perks of having a jet pack._  
He flew through the clouds for a few more moments and finally dropped down on the EPF's roof, which had a small landing that seemed almost handmade for solo jet pack fliers.

There was a little trap door that Jet opened, leading to a stairwell.

Time to see what the EPF is really all about.


	6. Chapter 6: Checkup

**AN: school has been killing me, i'm so sorry, i'll update real quick this time i promise**

When Jet first entered the EPF HQ's second floor, I was expecting some James-Bond-style stuff. Instead, there was just paperwork and quiet phone chatter. Penguins were sitting at desks, talking on phones or scrolling through lines of articles or coding that I probably wouldn't have the patience to handle. A few of them looked up and greeted JPG with a nod or a mumbled "Hey Jet." Not that Jet really seemed to mind. He nodded back, and I didn't sense any annoyance or anger from him.

Jet made his way to the elevator. It didn't look like a normal mortal elevator, at least from my experience more or less. It was cylinder-shaped, with a green-tinted glass tube for a wall and a shiny metal panel stretching a couple inches beyond the door's edges. There were only three floor buttons: second floor, first floor, and one marked as "basement." Jet quickly pushed his flipper to the space under the basement button, revealing an extra five buttons. Each was labeled with negative numbers.

So that's what Jet meant when he said the HQ had eight floors. Smart.

He hit the -2nd floor button and as the elevator went down, the glass showed what the floors looked like. The first floor looked normal: just more penguins doing paperwork. The basement was just a bunch of boxes. The -1st floor looked more interesting. Lots of penguins in black suits with cool holographic screens in a corner and an improvised jail cell with lasers for bars. I wonder if anyone's ever gotten heavily injured from those.

There was a little ding as the door opened to the -2nd floor. It looked bigger than the -1st floor: a control room that looked about as big as the Puffle Hotel's grooming section, with a big rectangular table in the middle that had room for a good eight or so penguins. There was a filing cabinet that stretched up to the ceiling and a well-lit alcove that reminded me of a baby-changing station. Beyond the control panel, behind a thick glass wall, there was what I guessed was some kinda fancy arena with white panels all over.

A screen on the control panel lit up and showed a silhouetted penguin's face. When it "spoke," the voice was so distorted I could barely understand it.

"You're here early, agent."  
"Didn't sleep very well, Director."  
"Oh? Did something happen?"  
"No, just a nightmare, ma'am. It was too late for me to go back to sleep."  
"Understandable. I won't be participating in training today. Could you alert the agents of it once they arrive?"  
"Yes, ma'am. Is it okay to ask why you won't be training?"  
"Today is just a considerably busy day for me. Details are classified."

I felt Jet get a bit disappointed there. I'd dig up details later.

"Understood, Director. Are there any updates on villains or missions?"  
"Nothing out of the ordinary, agent. However, there's a minor issue that I feel you should be aware of. Rookie has reported signs of possible attempts at mind-controlling him, and I have also felt an attempt. While none of the other agents have reported anything, I feel you should be aware of any changes in your thinking."

Damn it. They were already onto me? It's been, like, two days!

There was a little flare of annoyance from Jet. "Director, as much as I respect you, are you sure it's reasonable to take a claim from _Rookie_ as evidence that someone might be trying to mind-control us?"  
"Agent, Rookie never claimed he was being mind-controlled. He described some of the effects he experienced, and they were similar to mine. Non-sequitur thoughts and a slight loss of impulse control are warning signs. While I'm fully aware that Rookie isn't the most intelligent agent we have, he's one of the most honest, and he's quite adept at sensing changes in his own thoughts. You shouldn't underestimate him."  
 _You're overestimating him_, Jet thought.  
He sighed. "Understood, Director. My apologies. What do I do if I experience any attempts?"  
"If you experience multiple attempts, I suggest you contact Gary and see if he can find out where the attempts are coming from. If Gary cannot source the attempts, you may be detained on the Tech class floor cells until the attempts stop."

I'm gonna have to be a lot more careful, then.

"I see. Thanks for telling me this, ma'am."  
"It's to be expected, agent. Mind control attempts aside, what are you going to do until the other agents arrive?"  
"Just give the training bots their checkup and make sure the files are up to date."  
"Excellent. Have a nice day, Jet Pack Guy."  
"You too, Director, ma'am."

The screen flickered black.

I tried to nudge Jet in the right direction. "Check the bots first."  
 _It's 6:02 AM, training starts at 6:30. I doubt I'll be able to check the bots and file in that amount of time.  
_"There's always time for files. There's only half an hour until training. What if a robot malfunctions?"  
That got him. _There's not enough time, though._  
"Just be quick."

Jet waddled over and opened a door on the right side of the control panel. I was expecting, like, a couple hundred robots, but there were only about twenty bots. Apparently checking the bots meant opening their back panel and making sure that all their limbs/joints and stats were fine, which took a good minute for each bot. _Blegh._

About halfway through, I decided to pry some more. "How are these controlled, again?"  
 _From the control panel.  
_ "They can't work without it, right?"  
 _They're programmed to shut off if they're too far away.  
_

Fantastic! Fan-FREAKING-tastic! I can't even fully curse cuzza this game's damn rating! How the hell am I gonna be able to take over this stupid island with Jet?! I guess it could be possible to mess with their programming, but I doubt JPG knows much about coding. Hell, _I_ barely know anything about coding!

There was still one thing. It was a shot in the dark, though.

"The Director's kinda biased on Rookie, eh?"  
I didn't think it'd anger him so much.

 _As much as I care about Rookie, he doesn't deserve what he's got. Why does he get to be next in line for Director status when he can almost never finish a mission, much less on the first try? Why does he get to be the Comm lead when the whole point of the Comm class is to give and receive orders, intercept enemy intelligence, and jam signals? I mean, I'm not saying I should be the Comm leader, and I'm no hacker, but at least I know the basics of coding. He's constantly slipping up and revealing classified information, and the Director's even taken away his spy phone privileges before!  
_

Jet was shaking a bit and nearly dropped the last robot's back panel.

As much as I like feeding off rage, this is getting ridiculous.

"Calm down."

Jet sighed and sat down in one of the chairs around the table. It was 6:29 AM. Not too shabby.

 _There must SOME reason the Director's so fond of him. He's good in social situations. Popular. He can speak crab. He's managed to fix almost every mistake he's made. He notices little details other penguins don't notice, including the Director in some cases._

"Doesn't he try to partner with you as often as possible?"

 _Yeah, but that doesn't mean it's fun. I tried to dedicate most of my time one year into making him a better agent. He's a good friend, really, but sometimes he just doesn't know when to shut up and he can be such a burden on missions and he gets so much praise whenever he manages to NOT mess something up and... I just think he really doesn't deserve to be next in line for Director.  
_

"What makes you think YOU deserve to be the next Director?"

 _What kind of question is that?! I have the F.I.S.H. memorized! I've been around since the early PSA days, I've never made any big mistakes like giving Herbert my spy phone, I've gotten near-perfect marks on almost every training mission and-_

The elevator doors opened. PH stepped out.

"Mornin', Jet."

"Good morning, PH."


	7. Chapter 7: Whoops

**AN: i am so sorry about the glitches, shoutout to Blank in the reviews**

More agents arrived as time went by. Rookie showed up kind of early I guess, and Jet was proud of him for a moment. Everyone was talking about their plans for the day. Gary and Dot came by at around the same time.

I wasn't really paying attention. It's so hard to work with Jet, or anyone here, probably. The most violent thought Jet's had all day is just being jealous that Rookie's next in line for Director and not him. When I was possessing PH, she was only ever sad or angry when someone was taking improper care of puffles, and nobody else really had much going for them.

I'm so hungry. Should I just drop the stealth-possession plan and see if I can hack a bunch of the combat robots? I could also just start exerting more control over Jet, but that would risk him fighting back and pushing me out.

I didn't get a chance to finish plotting stuff.

Jet stood up from his chair and waddled over to the front of the room.

"All right, agents. I don't want to give another speech, but we need to go over the basic combat training requirements to make sure no one forgets anything."

Dot rolled her eyes. I could relate.

"Aim to disarm, not harm. No weapons are allowed, and any training with weapons must be filed for on your own time."

Rookie was mouthing along the words. I think it was actually more out of respect than boredom.

"If anyone wants to brush up on their skills, or if anyone is sub-par, extra training is provided by yours truly. Schedules may change, so please ask me for the time when you can."

Rookie clapped softly for a moment.

"Any questions?"

Rookie raised his flipper.

There was a tiny flare of annoyance from Jet. "Yes, Rookie?"

"Would a fish count as a weapon?"

"Yes, Rookie."

"There's no difference even if it's dead or alive?"

"It counts as a weapon either way."

"So I have to fill out the thing so I can use it here?"

"Yes. That was three questions, by the way."

"Okay. Sorry, Jpeg."

"It's fine. Anyway, alphabetical order as usual. Dot?"

Dot stood up and stretched. "Yeah, I'm ready."

She waddled into the white arena place and got into a basic fighting stance.

Jet sat at the control panel and sent out one robot.

I was barely focused on Dot. I wanted to know how the control panel worked.

If the robots are programmed to shut down once they get too far away, and Jet and I don't have the skills to override it, was it possible to just make them go rogue on this one floor?

"Jet, do you really have to start the bots at level 1 every time?"

Dot had already put the bot into a headlock, and it was struggling (pretty weakly) to get out.

"It's standard protocol," Jet said into the mic.

Dot groaned as Jet fiddled with the control panel.

I was starting to understand how it worked. There was a little scrolling menu for how many robots you wanted to send out, and another one next to it that showed the level.

"Levels" are probably just how hard they are to fight, I guess.

I took control of Jet's arm for a little bit while he was setting the numbers. Nothing big, just some little twitches that might seem natural to Jet. The menus were those wrap-around types that could go from 0 back to 20 if you pressed the other way.

Perfect. I was starting to think up a plan. It was risky, but I was starving.

Apparently, for every even-numbered level you passed, more robots got sent out. By the time Dot was at level 8, she was fighting eight bots. Convenient.

I waited while Dot went through the bots, and then G went up. Later, Jet went into the ring himself while G took over the controls instead. PH went up after, and I noticed a leaderboard forming on one of the control panel screens.

JET PACK GUY - LVL 12

DIRECTOR - LVL 11

DOT - LVL 9

PH - LVL 7

GARY - LVL 4

ROOKIE - LVL 3

Oh man. I almost feel sorry for the little guy.

PH came out of the arena looking exhausted like everyone else.

"Have you been training lately, PH?" Jet asked.

"Yup." PH dropped into her seat, nearly panting.

Rookie stood up and started waddling to the arena door. "I've been training too, JPG!"

"Let's hope it pays off." Jet didn't get annoyed. Am I overestimating how much he doesn't like Rookie? Oh well.

Rookie was in the arena. Jet was about to set the bots and levels.

I took control of his arms and fiddled around with the menus myself. Sixteen bots at level 15 set out for Rookie.


	8. Chapter 8: Medic

"Oh no," Jet mumbled.

There was a little "cancel" button next to the scrolling menus. Every time Jet tried to reach for it, I'd nudge his arm the other way.

"Jet? You see all the bots, too, right?" Dot asked.

"Yes, I'm trying to shut them down." Jet was getting more rushed every second. He must've looked funny with his arms flying everywhere but the button.

Rookie was kind of half-smiling. He was probably still in some denial. "Uh, Jet? I know people can make really bad mistakes sometimes, especially if the fate of the island's involved, but c-can you fix the bots? F-Fast?"

"I'm TRYING!" The agents were staring wide-eyed. Must not've looked like he was trying very hard.

Rookie started running for the door out of the arena. Some of the bots blocked the way.

"Jet, I-I can't talk to them like this! What gives?!" Talk to them? Rookie speaks robot _and_ crab? What a catch.

"Jet, what's wrong with you?" PH asked.

"I-I DON'T KNOW!"

G stepped up next to Jet. "Let me handle this."

The bots were starting to land hits on Rookie. He was scared out of his mind, and man, I haven't had a meal like that in a while.

Jet was losing it. "I CAN FIX TH-"

I made it so that one of the failed attempts at pressing the button just so *happened* to look like a slap to G's face.

G looked shocked.

"I can't believe this." PH shoved Jet aside and hit the cancel button. Jet didn't protest.

The bots all stopped fighting and immediately starting marching back to the bot room.

Dot rushed into the arena. "We have to get him to the medics. He looks really badly hurt. PH, help me carry him."

"I can help," Jet said.

"Y'know, mate, I'm not so sure if it's a good idea to let you carry him if you can't even press a button for him," PH hissed.

She was probably right. I would've made Jet drop him on the way or something.

Dot, PH, and a really-badly-bruised Rookie (I think I saw some bone? Sick.) stepped into the elevator. Have Rookie's arms always looked like they had 5 joints? Rookie groaned as PH shifted her position to carry him better.

Jet was about to step onto the elevator with them when G put a flipper on his shoulder. The elevator doors closed and whooshed away without either of them.

"I agree with PH. It might be best for you to not go near Rookie for some time."

"Do you REALLY think I'd hurt him?! I was TRYING to press the button, but-"

"Guy. I never said you would hurt him. I'm sure the Director's briefed you on the possible attempts at mind-control."

"...Yeah. I almost forgot about that."

"Did you feel like you were in control of yourself when you were at the control panel?"

"Not really. My arms kept moving away from the menus, even though I was really trying to cancel the bots. The slap was also an accident. I apologize for that."

"Apology accepted. What about your thoughts? Anything out of the ordinary?"

"Erm, maybe some weird, intrusive ones, but they're easy to brush off and they haven't really commanded me or anything like that. I think."

"Strange. Herbert might've upgraded the brain box technology from Operation Puffle and somehow managed to transplant it onto you."

Whew. At least they've got the wrong guy.

"How would he have done that? And when?"

"I'm not quite sure myself. However, an x-ray or something of the sort might help solve the mystery, and we could always use the Minderizer 3000 if none of that works!" G grinned.

What the hell's a Minderizer?

"Thanks for the offer, G, but I really don't think the Minderizer's necessary. I'd like to keep my head to myself, if you don't mind."

"If you say so. You haven't objected to an x-ray, though."

"It sounds reasonable."

"Agreed. Onwards, then!" G waddled over to the elevator and pressed the -4th floor button.

"Do you think they'll let me see Rookie?" Jet asked as he waddled into the elevator with G.

"I'm not sure. Hopefully they'll be kind enough to give us his diagnosis." The elevator started whooshing.

Both of them stayed quiet until the doors opened. The room was full of huge, bright screens and computers displaying walls of text. There were tables and work benches scattered around with half-made machines and tools on them. Penguins in lab coats and suits were sitting at nearly every table and screen. A couple turned to give JPG some wary glances and glares.

JPG paused. He probably wasn't used to getting negative attention from so many agents.

"Jet, they don't know the full story. Remember what we're here for."

"Right, right, the x-ray."

They both started making their way through the tables and computers, but G was a bit faster than Jet. Did he know the place by heart?

"INCOMING!" shouted some voice I couldn't identify.

Jet nearly dodged a rogue propeller cap. The green puffle wearing it was struggling to control the oversized, rocket-powered prototype.

"Should we be worried?" Jet asked G.

"Of course not. It hasn't exploded yet, so I'd mark that as a near-success in my book." G saluted the group of penguins chasing after the puffle, and one smiled and saluted back before resuming the chase.

We finally stopped at a large, white door with a plaque stating "MEDICAL FACILITIES" in bold, red letters.

Jet held the door open for G as we entered the chaos. Well, it wasn't really chaos, but I don't think the doctors there were very used to seeing someone in Rookie's condition. The hallways were glass, and through Jet's eyes I could see some frantic physicians waddling the halls. The receptionist looked more bothered at the fact that Jet was there.

Dot and PH were in the waiting room.

"What'd you bring him here for?" PH asked. She didn't seem as angry as before, but some of it was still there.

G cleared his throat. "I believe that Jet's a victim of the supposed mind control the Director announced previously. We all saw what happened in training and Jet movements were abnormally bizarre, stilted, and unnatural. By which I mean they were weird."

"And a heavy check-up might prove there's something wrong with me. Like a transmitter or some kind of mini brain chip."

Dot and PH glanced at each other, but Dot spoke up first. "I didn't believe the mind control stuff myself, but if this is actual mind control, we might be dealing with someone or something worse than Herbert. This is seriously out of his league."

Thank goodness. Herb's just an angry softie, from the research I've done. I bet you he couldn't handle _actually_ having blood on his paws if ever even managed to get some in the first place.

JPG shrugged. "We won't know until we see." He waddled up to the now-less-distraught-looking receptionist. "Could I get a physical and an X-ray as soon as possible? I don't want to interfere with Rookie's care."

"Of course," said the receptionist. She was really going out of her way to avoid eye contact as she wrote down Jet's request.


	9. Chapter 9: What's This

Y'know, there's really nothing holding me back at any given moment here. I could've grabbed one of the hunks of machinery on the work tables on the tech floor, and I could've bludgeoned G's head with it. I could've gone out of my way to beat some random agent's face in. But I haven't, even though it'd probably be fun.

And to be honest, I am having a really hard time holding back right now. I'm _starving_.

After the doctor's had time to give Jet his check-up, they didn't notice anything at first. X-ray was normal. No signs of foreign matter anywhere.

But then they measured his body temperature. Jet's temperature was nearly 10 degrees higher than usual, but he didn't even realize it. _I_ didn't even realize it, but a higher temperature's shown up in some other mortals I've possessed. I still don't know how to stop it.

They said it themselves that it was a stupid thing, but the security footage from training showed them something was wrong.

And then Rookie, **_stupid_** Rookie, had to talk.

They let Jet talk to him one more time, nobody else in the room except for some security. Man, I almost felt bad for him. He was hooked up to like, three different machines, one wing and one flipper in a heavy cast. One of his eyes was swollen shut. The doctors had to cut his propeller cap off to fully access the injuries, and parts of his head were bandaged. Every word he spoke was kinda raspy.

"Jet?"

"Hey, Rook."

Rookie smiled a little, but even that looked painful. He squinted a little. "Who's the other guy?" he whispered.

"What other guy?"

"The... the other guy," Rookie wheezed out. "He's like, right next to you, I think? Or he has a really bad sense of personal space."

Jet was confused, and held up both of his flippers close to each other. "How many flippers am I holding up?"

"Two. Jay-peg, it's not my eyes. There's another guy with you. You don't see him?"

No.

"Do you mean the security guards?"

"N-nah. I don't know how to say this, but like, he's in you, I think?" Rookie heaved a couple of breaths.

 **NO**.

I didn't want this. "He's probably on three different types of painkillers right now. This 'guy' could be a hallucination."

 _The Director said Rookie sensed an attempt. He clearly knows a little more than I do about this._ "Do you... do you mean you can see whoever's controlling me?"

"Kinda. I guess? I couldn't see him before, but I can now, sort of. Dunno if you would call it 'seeing,' really." Rookie stifled a yawn. "It's really blurry, though. Everything's blurry, really. You should... probably tell the Director. I mean, if I had an invisible dude with me with me all the time, I'd probably be worried... Maybe he's stuck there..."

"Wait, wait Rookie, stay with me."

Rookie's eyelids were drooping. "What if... it's actually a girl? It'd be weird if it were a girl, too..."

"Rookie?"

"Or... something... else..." Rookie was either asleep, or the sheer amount of painkillers and stuff was kicked in. I mean, that rant about my gender was weird.

Jet backed away from the bed. The guards looked unnerved.

He told the Director later. Apparently the consensus was that near-death experiences make it easier to see ghosts, and to be honest, I don't really know if that's true or not. Anyway, the Director thought Rookie's vision confirmed the need for near-constant surveillance on Jet at the EPF, and he _agreed_. In fact, he agreed so hard that he connected all of his stupid home security cameras to the EPF! He even wears one on his daily flights!

Guh. It's been nearly a month and I've barely gotten anywhere with this boring, brown-nosing, goody-two-shoes cop. Unless you count the "food fight" I managed to start about two weeks ago. I say "food fight" because it was just me making Jet throw some scalding hot coffee at a few agents. One almost got a second-degree burn, so that was kinda refreshing for me, at least. Jet wasn't allowed to use the coffee machine anymore, though.

Sometimes he'd try to talk to me. Just randomly taking a break from whatever he was doing and going "are you there?" or "why did you hurt rookie?" in his head. Of course, I haven't responded, but it's been tempting.

At the moment, Jet wasn't really doing much. Signing and doing paperwork the EPF sent him. Idly watching some old tv show about planes.

He was on edge because G had taken his jet pack in for repairs, and it had been due back to him almost an hour ago. But being on edge doesn't count as food for me.

I've been reeeaally quiet the past few days. Best not to draw even more attention, right? But this might count as one last chance. Maybe I could make Jet explode a faulty invention on himself or something.

"Wouldn't hurt to check how G's doing," I said in JPG's head. He instantly agreed.

G lived a short walk from JPG's place, but Jet ran as fast as he could and nearly slammed the door to G's iggy open. That jet pack sure means a lot to him.

Weird enough, G wasn't anywhere. Weirder, there was a panel on the floor closing.

I reacted before Jet could. Dunno if he noticed, but I took control and dived for the panel as the last second. It tried to crush his flipper the first few tries, but the panel eventually went up trap-door style instead. I sunk back as quickly as I took control, and Jet winced as the pain in his flipper got to him.

The panel was on automated hinges, and it turned out to be hiding a small hole in the ground, just about big enough to make a cramped snow angel in. But the hole wasn't the important part.

There was a silent, swirling, circular portal that nearly took up the entire hole. Neither of us could tell whether it was being held in place or floating. The border was made of bulky steel and iron panels in a rough halo shape, and the swirls were pale blue.

What. In. The. World?

I've seen portals like this one before, but why would one be here? These were for pocket dimensions.

 _This might just be one of Gary's inventions. None of my business._

Jet was about to waddle away before I started talking. "If G's choosing to work on whatever this is when he could be working on your jet pack instead, don't you think it wouldn't hurt to at least check on how his progress is going?"

Jet paused. I thought he was gonna notice it was me until he got a chair and propped it against the panel to keep it from closing.

 _Just in case._

Apparently Jet knew his way around G's igloo. The first room was just a big TV, a plush-looking sofa, a few coffee tables with little gadgets spread across them, a partially torn-up puffle bed, and some portraits of his family members. At least, I assume they're family members because they're all wearing the exact same glasses as him. Are they some kind of family heirloom or does geekiness run in the family?

The only other the room lead to a small hallway with three doors, one of which had heavy steel-plating around the border and a small panel next to it. Jet moved over to the door and put his flipper on the panel. There were little scanning noises for a second until "WELCOME" flashed on the panel's screen.

The doors opened to what I guessed was G's lab. There were a lot of intricate machines there, but Jet's eyes immediately darted to his precious jet pack. It was in perfect condition, unless G was trying to make some unseen alteration that wasn't finished yet.

"Wait." Jet was about to put it on, but this situation didn't seem right to me.

Jet paused. I had to talk quickly before he realized some *outside force* was stopping him from putting on his jet pack.

"Why not call G?"

 _Why should I call G?_

"He might assume Herbert stole it or something. Best to make sure everything goes smoothly, right?"

Jet thought it over, and finally agreed. He took out his phone and dialed G.

While the phone rang, I got ready to act.

"Hello? Jet Pack Guy, are you worried about your jet pack?"

I took control before Jet could say anything. "Yes, but I just want to know if and when I can come by to pick it up."

"Oh, I'm putting the finishing touches on it right now! I'm currently tweaking the fuel compartments with a space-time compression device I made recently. That is, your jet pack will soon be able to hold up to three cans of fuel at a time! Isn't science fascinating?"

I idly checked the jet pack while G was talking. Yup, the fuel compartments already had a little black cube on the inside, and sticking a flipper in there felt like sticking an arm into a cold cave. G was nice enough to even leave it half-full. "Mh-hm. So when can I come by to pick it up?"

"About a half hour from now should be fine. Sorry for the delay."

"It's fine. I'm looking forward to getting it back."

"I expect you to, seeing as how it's _your_ jet pack. See you in about a half hour, Guy." The line clicked as G hung up.

I gave Jet control again, and he shook for a moment until he realized he was fine. "WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!" he yelled to himself out loud.

I didn't say anything. Jet nearly growled, and put his phone back into his suit pocket. He put on his jet pack as tenderly as he could, and waddled out of G's lab and back to the main room.

The panel was still held open by the chair. Jet stopped by it, watching the portal swirl.

I managed to catch a few clear lines of Jet's scattered thoughts.

 _Why would Gary lie? He knows how important my jet pack is. Has he lied before? Should I just call the Director? No, that seems too extreme._

 _Did you know about this?_

It took be a second to realize he was talking to me. It hurt to stay quiet, but I couldn't afford to mess with his line of thinking when we just stumbled upon what might be prime blackmail material.

After a few moments of silence, Jet sighed and maneuvered himself into the portal.


	10. Chapter 10: Discovery

Jet landed on a very soft, springy mattress.

The portal was still swirling above. Jet took a look around the room.

Lots of nerdy stuff. A poster on the wall that had the elements of the periodic table replaced with comic book superheroes, another poster with a penguin-ified Albert Einstein sticking his tongue out. I think there were a few collector's edition posters for horror movies, too, based on how detailed they looked.

Aside from the posters, there was a huge flat-screen TV with just about every gaming console I knew and some I'd never seen. There were also a lot of standalone racks filled with games and movies, and a bunch of speakers on either side of the TV. Right next to where Jet and I landed, there were two scale models: one that was in black and white with two penguins being chased by a sled(?), and a much bigger one of the Club Penguin island. On the other side of where we'd landed, near the TV, there was a bookcase that reached to nearly the ceiling.

Jet looked over the scale model of Club Penguin. It was ridiculously detailed to the point that there was a tiny flying JPG over the town held up by wire. I had to admire the handiwork. Jet was about to move over to the movies, but my focus was on the bookcase. It looked out of place among the racks of other stuff.

"Check out the bookcase."

 _Why?_

Why does Jet have to make everything so hard? "Because it looks suspicious."

 _Why should I listen to anything YOU have to say?_

Guh. "You discovered this room because of me. _I_ was the one that dove in to catch the panel, in case you weren't aware."

 _Wait, that was you?_

"Yup. I think fast. Are you gonna check the bookcase or not?"

 _How do I know this isn't some scheme? If we find G, how will I know you won't hurt him?_

"There's no way for you to know unless I tell you, but I can assure you that I won't gain anything from hurting G." That's a lie. I'm still kind of hungry, and some raw pain would do me good. It would be stupid to hurt G without another reason, though.

"Now, I'm gonna say this in the only language you'll understand: Gary has access to possible interdimensional portal technology, which we just used. I've been clinging to you for about a month, and from what I've seen, the EPF doesn't know anything about that stuff. I've got a hunch that wherever G is, we can find out with that bookcase, and even if we DON'T find G, we can leave and you can report your findings to the Director. Capiche?"

 _But-_

"Is this REALLY the time or the place to keep asking me questions? I'll talk to you if and when we get back to your place."

 _This seems like an invasion of privacy._ _And how do you know that the portal was to another dimension? This doesn't really seem like it._

"I've seen interdimensional portals before, and that was an interdimensional portal. Trust me, I'll gladly tell you about my supercool personal life after we find out what's going on here. As for the privacy thing, consider that one time G stole your jet pack to give it some tuneups. I know it's not the same thing, but I think it shows that G's got a loose sense of 'privacy,' don't you think?"

 _How do you know about that?_

"I live in your head, doofus."

The snippet about jet pack theft got him thinking, though. Finally, he waddled over to the bookcase.

They were all thick books on various branches of science and math. Theories, variations on Euclidian space, fractal curves, stuff like that. However, the bookcase was tilted so it wasn't entirely on the wall. In fact, looking closer to the edge that was "off" the wall-

The bookcase was a door and it was built _into_ the wall. Even though we couldn't see the hinges, we could see and hear into the room on the other side.

But the bookcase was only slightly ajar. All I could see was more books, and the voices sounded too far away to really tell what they were saying. One was G's voice, but there was someone else in there. Who could it be?

"Do you think you could open the bookcase?"

 _It'd make noise._

"How else are we gonna get in? G's in there, and I know you've got a lot of questions to ask him. Plus, you're making it sound like we're sneaking around. Why don't we just walk right in and talk to him?"

 _...Good point_. Jet shrugged and heaved the bookcase open. The voices on the other side stopped talking for a moment.

Jet squeezed in through the opening. There was actually a pretty complicated lock system and some cartoonishly huge hinges for the door. I guess G got cocky when he didn't close it all the w-

 **"INTRUDER! INTRUDER!"**

Jet didn't turn to defend himself fast enough. He was pushed to the ground by a simplified mechanical spider that was almost bigger than him.

What the absolute hell?

The "spider" screeched so loudly at such a high pitch that it hurt to hear. The underside was flat, but it opened up to let out a bunch of small, needle-like appendages. Jet flew out from under it and punched the thing in what looked like a camera-eye combination. Shame, I was wondering where those needle-things were going. The spider recoiled and looked like it was about to jump before someone yelled.

"THOMAS! DOWN, BOY!"

The spider instantly stiffened and stopped moving. **"YES, CREATOR!"**

G waddled out from behind one of the shelves and looked up at Jet. "Hello, Guy! Er, could you come back down from there?"

Jet was still hovering away from the spider. "I'm not going anywhere _near_ that thing. What is it, anyway? What _is_ this place?!"

"I'd rather answer your questions if you were down here so I didn't have to yell over your jet pack! And don't worry about Thomas, he's not attacking anymore!"

Jet considered his options for a moment until he resigned to landing near G. "Thomas" kept looking at Jet with its eye the entire time. I gotta admit, I've seen a lot of things in my existence, but it managed to creep me out a little bit.

G sighed. "I'd like to know first, though. How on Earth did you manage to get in?"

"I opened the door to your igloo the second the panel was closing. Why do you ask?"

"Just curious. What about the phone call?"

Jet sort of growled. "That was courtesy of my 'friend.' You know, the one in my head?"

Thomas suddenly chimed in with **"HAVING ANOTHER PERSON IN YOUR HEAD IS A SIGN OF MULTIPLE MENTAL ILLNESSES AND DISORDERS!"** Jet nearly jumped. Is it always screaming?

G smirked and turned to Thomas. "This situation is different, Thomas. How about you go back to the lab and watch Darwin?"

 **"OKAY!"** It scuttled away behind some bookcases.

"...That thing can think?" Jet asked, jaw dropped.

"It's a long story. I left some coffee brewing near the lab, and I think it's better to answer all your questions over a cup, don't you?"

"I'm not in the mood for coffee."

G looked momentarily shocked at that. "Well, even if you aren't, there are some chairs and other snacks. Wouldn't you prefer that to just standing here?"

Jet looked off behind G. Sure enough, there seemed to be some beanbags and a plush chair behind a desk with a possible coffee machine on it. A mini-fridge was off to the side. "...All right."


	11. Chapter 11: Deal

**A/N: i'm gonna start writing more per chapter because 1 i wanna make up for the time between chaps 2 i wanna fix up the pacing and 3 i do not want this story to end up with like 50 chapters or smth once it's done, thank u all for ur patience**

"So... you probably have a _multitude_ of questions, but first, are you interested in any food?" G said, as he sat down in the big, plush chair with a cup of coffee.

"Depends. Do you have any hardtack, or something to make a protein shake?" Jet struggled to sit up in the beanbag chair, which he kept sinking into.

"As a matter of fact, I do! You're okay with 'Muscle Milk,' right?"

"Sure. Not the best, though." Jet and I dwelled on how weird it was for G to have protein shake stuff. Maybe he WAS trying to get fit, despite his poor skills in tactics. That would be funny.

G started making the shake. "Any other questions before we get down to business?"

"Yeah. First off, do you have any REAL chairs? I'm not fond of beanbags." Jet shifted, and somehow managed to sink deeper into the beanbag chair than before.

"Oh. Well, I have some basic wooden ones in the closet, but-"

"I'd like one. Please."

"If you say so. THOMAS! COULD YOU GET A CHAIR FOR JET PACK GUY, PLEASE?"

 **"YES, CREATOR!"** There were some metallic shuffling noises behind the bookcases, and sure enough, Thomas scuttled over the surrounding bookshelves with a plain wooden chair in its legs. Claws? I don't know how spider terminology works.

G handed the protein shake to Jet while Jet quickly got settled into the wooden chair. "Thank you, Thomas. Jet, you were curious about Thomas before, correct?"

Jet drank half of the shake in a few gulps. "Mm-hm. But I want to start from the beginning. As in-" Jet spread his arms out. "what IS all this?"

"The library was parting gift from Gariwald VIII. This was his first successful foray into 'creating' dimensions, or accessing emptier ones to be more specific." G perked up. "The process for building an entire self-sustainable library in the vacuum of space was surprisingly simple. Gariwald was able to create a sort of singularity by-"

"Gary, no offense, but I'd like to learn more without getting into physics."

G almost drooped. "...I see. Well, is there anything else you'd like to know?"

"What's Thomas?" Jet quickly glanced at Thomas. It hadn't even moved from where it was when it gave Jet the chair.

"Ah." G leaned over to pet the machine, and it made a low buzzing noise, kind of like a purr. "Thomas, or the Creepy Crawler 1000, is a leftover from 2013. See, I wanted to make it for Halloween, but I never managed to finish it in time. I considered using it anyway, but the side-effects included paralysis, muscle decay, and strong body odor, so I didn't want to risk it."

"Wait, what does Thomas DO, exactly?"

"Allow me to demonstrate!" Gary started unbuttoning his lab coat.

"Um."

"Don't worry, he's not _that_ kind of machine." He left his lab coat on the desk and waddled over to Thomas, leaving his back to it. "Thomas, connect."

Thomas let out the little needle-like claws I saw when it was trying to attack Jet. G held his breath and winced as they went into his back. Like, I'm pretty sure they pierced flesh.

"G-Gary?"

G finally breathed out. "Don't worry, it's not really painful so long as you hold your breath. Connection is much smoother with Atmos." G stood up, using Thomas's legs instead of his, kind of like Doctor Octopus. Man, I've seen a lot of freaky stuff in my life, and this is nowhere _near_ the top ten, but I didn't expect anything like this in _CP_.

"Atmos? Wait, why would you even MAKE this?" Jet was almost trying to back away in his chair.

"I've been interested in insects and arachnids for a very long time, but I've never made any inventions that take after them, so I tried to make a more advanced spider costume for Halloween, hence the name 'Creepy' Crawler." He picked up his cup of coffee and moved back to his desk. "Atmos is the Creepy Crawler 3000. He's currently helping me with one of my latest inventions."

"Hold on. Why would you keep Thomas around? Your prototypes usually explode, don't they? And why 'Thomas' and 'Atmos,' of all names?"

"Thomas was lucky enough to NOT explode," G said, beaming with pride. "Also, I recall you asking why Thomas was capable of thinking. Thomas and Atmos are my first successful AIs, if you remember my failure with the Test Bots. I've only kept both of them because their AIs have developed differently to the point that personalities are discernible, and Thomas makes a wonderful security system. As for the names, Rookie suggested 'Thomas' when he first saw it, and I thought 'Atmos' was the closest feasible anagram to 'Thomas.'"

You know in movies when one character learns too much in one moment, so they end up freaking out or something like that? I think Jet was starting to get to that level. "Rookie knows about this? Does the _Director_ know about this?"

"Erm, in a way, Rookie did. Thomas, disconnect." G held his breath again as Thomas set him down and let go.

"What does that mean?"

Gary put on his labcoat again and sat at his desk, typing something out on his computer with a stern expression. "Guy, you have to understand that Auntie became rather, um, paranoid after the blackout. I fully agree that there should be heightened security for my inventions and blueprints, but the restrictions became too much. Constantly asking about all the materials and applications... If the chance of malfunction was 10%, she wanted me to scrap the entire invention! And she still does!" G looked almost angry, choosing to glare at the computer screen instead of Jet.

"She wanted me to melt Thomas for scrap metal because of the possibility that he would fall in the wrong hands. Or paws. Not to mention that this lab finally gives me the opportunity to carry out more ambitious inventions that the EPF wouldn't allow otherwise."

This didn't look good. Jet agreed with me. "I don't- I don't see what that has to do with my question."

"The Director...Auntie, she barely has the time to visit me anymore, unless it's on business, or if she wants to have some tea and coffee and talk for some time. She's always so busy, so she calls ahead before coming to make sure I'm here, so she's never had the chance to stumble upon this lab like you or Rookie. We both know that Rookie's not the best at keeping secrets, and I'm telling you, I do _not_ want to lose this lab."

"What exactly are you saying?" Jet was starting to tense up. His vision was starting to get cloudy, too. I don't think adrenaline rushes are supposed to do that to penguins.

G turned to face Jet, and he looked almost _sad_ now _._ "I had to come up with a way to make sure Rookie never talked about this lab, and I've used it on other penguins that have stumbled in here, too. Including you." He pressed a few more keys on his computer.

There was a soft tapping noise behind Jet, but he was quick to fly up into the ceiling, taking care not to bust a hole in it if G wasn't lying about this room being in space. On the ground, there was another mechanical spider thing like Thomas, except it was white and less bulky. Atmos, I'm guessing? Atmos and Thomas started to walk onto the wall. Thomas was starting to do that ear-splitting screech he did when it first attacked Jet.

"G, CALL THOSE THINGS OFF RIGHT NOW!"

G had to shout everything to be heard over Thomas's screeching and the roar of JPG's jet pack. "Jet, I'm sorry, but I can't risk you telling the Director about this. I know you, and you're one of the most stubborn tattletales I've ever known."

"S-So what are you going to do?" Jet was flying around the ceiling, trying to avoid having to fight the mechanical monsters. They were walking upside-down on the ceiling. Everything was starting to move, though. Why was everything moving?

"I'm going to have to erase your memory. Not everything, just what you remember from being here."

"WHAT?!" Jet nearly bumped into a bookcase. Why was he so dizzy?

"It's the most reliable way. I mean, not to toot my own horn, but clearly you don't remember the three previous wipes."

"Y-You've erased my memory three times?!" Jet had to land on top of a bookcase to catch his breath.

"Affirmative! Also, by any chance are you feeling very dizzy and lightheaded?" It's harder to sense emotions while I'm possessing someone, but from what little I could get, G was having a lot of conflicting feelings right then.

Jet barely missed Atmos lunging for him, only managing to fly over to another bookcase at the last second. "Y-Yeah, why?"

"Those must be the sedatives taking effect. I think I may have put in more than was necessary, given the dosage required for someone of your body mass, but it was probably for the best if this is to go smoothly."

Jet's thoughts were too foggy for me to really read, but I got a vague 'you DRUGGED ME?!' vibe. Poor thing.

As much as I admired G's plan here, I couldn't let it go through. I FINALLY get my hands on some good material, and I'm at risk of losing my leverage because of a memory wipe? Not gonna happen.

I took control over Jet. He was almost asleep, but I got him at the last second. Every movement was slower than I wanted it to be, like when you're playing a video game and you start lagging. However, I made him _stronger_.

Thomas was making his way to me. I flew up at the last possible second and lunged for him, holding onto his back. I managed to punch through the hard, metal outer casing and fly to Atmos before he could pull me off. Thomas started skittering toward me again, but the movements were a lot jerkier and the screech was almost gone.

"THOMAS! ARE YOU OKAY?!" G yelled.

Thomas said something, but it was too quiet for either of us to hear.

I glanced at G while I was trying to break Atmos's legs (the damn things were ball-and-joint). He was staring in horror at Thomas, which was now almost completely immobile from how stilted his walking was. I almost felt bad for breaking it.

Sticky, thick, black fluid started coming from the ends of Atmos's legs. Some of it got on Jet's left arm while I had it close to his body, and it quickly hardened so I couldn't move it. This fight had to end _fast_.

I flipped Atmos over and punched the middle of its underside. There was only a slight dent. I reared back and-

"STOP! ATMOS, HEEL!"

Atmos stopped trying to cover me in the black goop. I turned to where G was, near his desk.

"How...how did you manage to punch through metal? How did you dent ceramic? How did you do BOTH without instantly succumbing to fatigue?! I mean, without passing out?! A-Are you okay?"

I flexed some of Jet's muscles and tried not to grin. Yeah, the punches tore some muscles. That'd suck for Jet, though, and I've gotta stay buddies with him. "Not really. Do you have a splint or ice?"

"I-I-No, actually, but I have something better," G said, managing a small smile. "Follow me!"

"Hold up. You just _drugged me_ and ordered _spider robots_ to carry me to have my _memory wiped_ just so your twisted lab could stay a secret, and now you wanna give me _first aid_? What the-" Wait. I can't curse. "What the  heck is WRONG with you?"

G looked almost offended. "Well, I just...I didn't want you to break Thomas AND Atmos, and something tells me that your little passenger might be infouencing how you act."

Passenger? That's a new one. But hey, if he thinks jet's still talking, then I'll play along. "You think my 'passenger' is gonna keep me from telling people about all this? This is wrong. You should be amazed you're not locked up."

G sighed. "I'm fully aware, Jet. At the end of the day, despite the good my experiments here do, and despite how nobody suffers from my experiments, the secrecy and my methods are still not the best. But...is there nothing I can do to change your mind?"

I faked some deep thinking. This was too easy. "...I suppose there's ONE thing."

"What is it?"

"A compromise. I won't tell anyone about this lab IF you let me come in whenever I want. Even when you're not here. That way, I can just see if you're doing anything questionable. Nothing as strict as the Director's guidelines, but just a once-over."

"What exactly is your definition of questionable, Jet?"

I smirked, or rather I made Jet smirk. "Are you making machines that could go haywire and easily have to power to slaughter penguins?"

"Of course not!"

"Then you're not doing anything questionable. In the meantime, I'd just like to know what's in store for the EPF." I stuck a flipper out. "Do we have a deal?"

G sort of leaned away from me. "...Why would you, of all people, be okay with not telling the Director about something?"

"This is just a special case."

"Are you going to touch or alter my inventions in any way if I'm not there?"

"Never. Do we have a deal or not?"

"...Deal."


	12. Chapter 12: Control

**AN: i am SO sorry about the coding stuff that keeps showing up. i usually do the chapters on my ipad and then copy-paste them and sometimes it gets borked along the way. thank you to the guest that keeps fixing them in the reviews honestly. no offense, but is there any way to delete those after i fix them? it kinda clogs up the section imo. anyway, seriously don't be afraid to criticize me or point out any mistakes. i love the positive feedback i've gotten so far, though! two more chapters coming up fast!**  
_

This was going good. Pretty good, if I do say so myself.

I made Jet's body shake hands with G. Jet was semi-aware of things now that I managed to keep him from passing out, but he wasn't really trying to take back control.

"You're just watchin'?" I said in Jet's head.

He wasn't lucid enough to really think words. I got a vague " _yes_ " vibe, though.

"All right. Cool by me."

G and I broke off the handshake. "Hey, so about that first aid..."

"Oh! Of course. I almost forgot," G said, instantly losing all wariness. "There's a project I've been working on, and the attack on Rookie sort of pushed me to finally work more on it. Walk with me? I'll say more on the way."

"Sure thing."

"Splendiferous!" G exclaimed. That word alone gave me the urge to beat him up. I followed him into a clearing behind the bookcases while he talked, though.

"I finished it last week. I'd like to call it Medi-dust 3000, or Medust, as some of the EPF medics have been saying. Blegh. Anyway, it manages to act as a catalyst for any living thing's regeneration, though it works best on warm-blooded animals. The only side effect is a very strong hunger, but it should fade away once the damage is fixed."

The clearing was like the tech floor in the EPF, but a lot messier. There were some half-cleaned fluids I couldn't recognize smeared on the floor (and believe me, I know my fluids), along with multiple counters and desks overflowing with blueprints, lamps, tools, and clunky, half-finished machines. There were a bunch of cabinets near the wall, too. But what got my interest was something that was in the middle of the clearing. It was under a white sheet, but it looked HUGE. About the size of four penguins standing on each other, really. I'd ask later, though.

"Oh, before I forget...ATMOS! COULD YOU BRING THOMAS OVER HERE AND REPAIR HIM?"

Atmos shortly appeared, carrying Thomas over himself like a basketball. "Creator, before I begin, may I get permission to repair myself afterwards?" Atmos didn't screech everything like Thomas? He's now my favorite.

"Hm...I suppose so. Expect an investigation from me later."

"Affirmative," Atmos said, before skittering away to one of the tables.

"Those things help you?" I asked.

"Of course! Having extra hands, or should I say podomeres, around the lab is extremely useful. Anyway..." G went to the nearest table, which was oddly clean, and took a small white bag out from one of the drawers under it. "Could you take off your jacket?"

"Why?"

"It works better with direct contact to the skin, or wherever the injury is. Unless you're okay with some surgery, then..."

I _love_ live surgery. I've had full-on vivisections before, and they're SUPER fun. But Jet probably wouldn't like that. Wuss. "No surgery for me, thanks."

"I assumed you wouldn't want any." Was that a hint of disappointment I heard, or just my wishful thinking? I need to go back in G's head when I can.

I started having Jet unbutton his jacket, but I had trouble unsticking it from the tar from Thomas earlier. "Hey, Gary?"

"What is i- oh. Thomas did that?"

"Mm-hm."

"My apologies. It's part of how he defends himself. Luckily..." G fumbled around in one of the nearby cabinets, eventually finding a clear vial full of neon blue liquid. "...I have the solution."

G poured the goopy blue stuff onto the solid tar, and it quickly evaporated from Jet's jacket in a burst of steam. The steam smelled like burnt plastic and smoke, and I actually gagged.

"Eheh, that's #2987. I'm still trying to see if I can fix the smell."

"Please do," I said, as I finished taking off the jacket.

"Could you roll up your sleeves, too? Where exactly ARE your injuries, anyway?"

"Hm..." I muttered. I flexed a bit. "Everywhere, I think?"

"Great Scott. You've got to ingest it, then." G took a spoon out of the same drawer he got the bag from and poured a spoonful of the Medi-dust for me. "Just eat this and you should be fine. If you feel any adverse side effects, please contact me immediately."

I took the spoonful and swallowed it. The dust was tasteless and kind of crunchy. I could actually feel some of the injuries start healing up, but some weren't. Probably me, then. The longer I stay in a host, the more damage I do. It kinda sucks.

"Thanks, G," I said as I started putting the jacket back on again.

"My pleasure. So-"

"Wait. One question," I said, as I put Jet's jacket back on. "What's under the sheet?" I gestured to the big thing in the middle of the clearing.

"Oh, that?" Gary said, doing a bad job of acting like he didn't care. "Well, it's only my latest invention, and possibly my GREATEST since the Time Trekker 3000, if not moreso! Would you like to see?" He was almost vibrating with glee.

"No, not really."  
He _drooped_ , and he had almost the same expression he had from back when I slapped him in the training room. It was hilarious, imo. "Oh. I unders-"

"I was just kidding, G. I'm interested."

"Ah. Fantastic! Let me show you." I followed G as he hurried over to the thing and got ready to dramatically introduce me to his latest invention.

"-ahem- BEHOLD!" Gary whipped off the huge white sheet, revealing a huge, circular arc. It looked like it was made of different pieces of metal, screws, and wiring in a way where it seemed like each piece had nothing to do with another, yet it still made a perfect circle. There was a much simpler platform below it.

"The SUPER-TRANSDIMENSIONAL MATTER RELOCATOR AND DISPLACER 3000! Or the WorldWalker 3000, if the first name seems like a mouthful." G clasped his flippers, almost beaming with pride. "It enables anyone or anything to pass from one dimension to another, and you can pick which one you want to go to, so long as it's been named in its database. Other than that, it's randomized. You see- Wait." G looked embarrassed. "You don't really want to hear me go on about the workings of it, do you?"

Jet probably didn't want to. But me? I needed to know everything about this. "Actually, I'm still interested."

"Glorious! So, as I was saying..."

"***

There weren't any clocks I could see in the basement lab, but it felt like an hour or two passed by. Aside from the molecular physics and all that boring sciency stuff that I don't wanna dwell on, the WorldWalker was powered by a closed "box portal," which apparently leads to the Box Dimension.

I think that's where I live, but I don't hear people use the name "Box Dimension" often. It's always been "the Hub" or "Doorspace" or something. I'm betting it's because the penguins here haven't explored it well enough to know there's more than just boxes.

Aside from that, I learned a lot about the WorldWalker. Even managed to take a picture of the blueprints while G wasn't looking.

1\. I wouldn't be able to make any of my own WorldWalkers without the tons of different metals that G gets from the EPF, and apparently from the other sources that he refused to tell me about.  
2\. G is really bad at noticing when Jet's acting strange. I think he was just so happy to have someone to listen to him talk about *science* that he didn't want to question it.  
3\. G was planning on giving the WorldWalker to the EPF soon to see if it could be deemed safe enough to use for expeditions.

Overall, this means I gotta act fast if I want to get anywhere with this.

"Thank you for listening, Jet. I genuinely didn't think you'd want to sit through all that."

"No, it's fine, G. One thing, though."

"Hm?"

"How are you gonna move this to the EPF? It's huge."

G paused. "I could just teleport it."

"What if the teleportation fails, or it damages the WorldWalker in the process?"

"My teleportation devices have never failed, unless you count the incidences with Herbert and testing phases."

"Okay, but even if you DID manage to teleport it, it's really noticeable, so if it doesn't get approved, I doubt the Director would be happy if rumor reporters starting talking about it. And if it DOES get approved, you think construction penguins are gonna be happy about lugging this thing around for a party?"

"The WorldWalker can be easily disassembled, so there's need for back-breaking work."

"My other points still stand."

G sighed. "What are you suggesting, then?"

"Why not make more WorldWalkers, but smaller? If you want this to be for expeditions, having more than one WorldWalker set up could mean more dimensions at once, right? And more room for decorations."

"That's...that's actually quite brilliant. Ingenious, Jet Pack Guy! But like you said, what if the Director doesn't approve?"

"You can still conduct research down here with Thomas and Atmos, and I can drop by whenever the Director's not talking to me."

G mulled it over. "I...You know what? It sounds perfect. Two heads ARE better than one!" He chuckled, and I forced a small laugh.

"That's great, G. When are you planning on showing this to the Director?"

"In a week, give or take. I think Thomas, Atmos, and I can make about a dozen portals in that time." He idly looked over his blueprints for the WorldWalker and at the other half-finished machines strewn about the room. "Does that sound good for a party?"

"It sounds ideal. One more thing before I go, though."

"What is it?"

"How do I get back to my place?"

As per our deal, G taught me everything I needed to know to leave and come back to the basement lab whenever I needed. The amount of security was RIDICULOUS, but G insisted he needed to update it. Well, yeah, I managed to stumble upon it, but still.

You had to knock a little tune on Gary's closet, step into the verification chamber (which was INSIDE the closet), say a password (I chose "fuselage 500"), give retinal AND flipper identification, and spit into little DNA checker (you'd have to give a small blood sample if you couldn't spit). Then the panel under the rug would open and you could hop in. According to G, he just needs to make the panel close faster, but he hasn't gotten around to it.

If you tried to climb up the portal to leave the lab, you'd have to put in a four-digit passcode or else the panel wouldn't open to let you out. The numbers are 1592, because they're the next digits of pi after 3.14. I never known such a geek.

But hey! I've got an easy way to start some interdimensional hijinks, and G's not even suspicious! I managed to give him some tips on how to improve the WorldWalker, because I do NOT have the patience to just keep putting a random dimension until one with a friend/acquaintance/partner of mine shows up. He barely questioned it.

"Hold on for a moment. Jet, since when have you been knowledgeable on interdimensional travel?"

"...I'm not sure. I think it might be the...the parasite in my head, you know? I feel like it's giving me information. Is that possible?" Nailed it.

"We really need to name that headmate of yours, if they're helpful enough to alter your brain chemistry to the point where you can understand things like this. Then again, it may or may not have been the cause of your recent...outbursts."

"I'm not sure about its morals either, but a name sounds like a good idea. How about 'Gerard?'"

"Why that one? I was thinking something along the lines of 'Brain Boy' or 'Psychearth,' but Gerard is good too."

"Just picking random names." I bet you $20 those stupid names are because of how much sci-fi G is into.

I really **did** just say the first name that popped into my head. I kinda regret it, because I missed a perfect opportunity to get a cool name like "Bullet" or "Emperor," but G immediately texted the new name to the other agent leads and the Director, so I guess it's my name while I'm in Jet's head. At this rate, I'll be out in like, two weeks, though.

Once Gary and I said our goodbyes, I was trying to fly back to Jet's iggy. I didn't really have much experience with flying jet packs myself, and I kept wobbling every once in a whi-  
 _Leave._  
I jolted mid-air. Jet almost managed to completely push me out. I've been in enough possessions to know how to fight back, though. I kept calmly going back in while Jet had more primal rage than a four-year-old kid trying to get his favorite toy back.

"We probably shouldn't be doing this in the air. We're wasting all the fuel in your poor jet pack," I mentally stated, as I started wobbling even more because of our fighting.

 _Then you should **GET OUT** before we fall._

"Hey, I can fly. You can't. You're the only one losing, here."

 ** _SHUT UP AND LEAVE!_**

Poor sap spent more energy when he was yelling at me than he was fighting for control. He was getting tired and he didn't want to admit it. I found his igloo and flew in jerkily, entering the little code I'd seen him enter so many times to get in. I sat down at his desk and dug around in his pockets for his phone, and I dialed G's number. I was kind of shaky from Jet's pushing, and it took a few tries.

 _What are you doing?_

"None ya bee's wax," I said in Jet's head (just realized that rhymes!). Luckily, Jet was starting to get tired out, and I could handle his pushes pretty easily.

The phone picked up after it rang twice. "Jet? Calling so soon?"

"Yes. I'd just like for you to tell the Director that Gerard left."

"Who's Gerard?"

"Remember the little voice in my head?"

"Oh! Yes, yes, I remember now," G said with a chuckle.

"Yeah, it left. It said it wasn't needed anymore. Some spirit of knowledge or something. Do you know anything about that?"

"Oh my. I suppose uncle Gariwald could know more. Do you want me to contact him?"

All I remember about Gariwald is that he's way too nice and he barely knows any real information on spirits. He was surprisingly quiet back when I had him in my energy harvester. Old bastard.

"Do whatever feels right. What matters is that it's gone, and hopefully I won't have anymore spasms like what happened in the control room."

"Hm. A so-called spirit of knowledge trying to hurt innocent penguins doesn't seem right. I'll summon Gariwald when I can."

"I'm okay with that, but we don't need him seeing classified EPF files, and I'd rather not have him in my igloo. No offense."

"It's fine, Jet. I know how much you like your privacy. Hey, now that Gerard is gone, shouldn't the EPF stop monitoring your home?"

I faked a tired scoff. "You're right. That's why I called you. Could you tell the Director for me? I've got paperwork to do." It wasn't much, but there was almost a centimeter-high pile of sheets and forms on Jet's desk. He'd always organize the papers in the morning and do them in the afternoon, which was now. If anyone was behind the cameras right now, they'd think everything was peachy.

"I'd be happy to tell her for you. Thank you for telling me, Jet Pack Guy!"

"No problem. See you tomorrow." I hung up before G could say anything else. Was that kind of rude? Yes. Do I care? Not really.

 _"What are you even up to?_

"Again, I'm not telling you. Geez," I said. I almost said it out loud. This is the worst part of possessing someone. When they start bothering you and asking questions and they still think they have a chance at being in control.

I glanced at the cameras. Usually they were turned toward the windows for security, but the EPF had them turned in to watch Jet. There was a little red light to show that someone was manually controlling them.

I started doing some of the paperwork. After filling out and turning down a few weapon proposals from the EPF (which I did with Jet's reluctant help), I glanced again at the cameras. The lights were off.

"Finally," I said out loud, clicking the buckle to JPG's jet pack.


	13. Chapter 13: Enlisted

I don't know how Guy deals with carrying a jet pack around all day when it weighs more than a high schooler's bookbag.

 _Finally what?_ JPG wondered. _You still have paperwork to do._

"Paperwork sounds like something for later. I finally get to start putting things in motion, dummy. You been paying attention, orrrr...?" It was a lot easier to talk out loud than to focus on saying everything in his head. Good thing Jet's so paranoid he's almost soundproofed his igloo like a recording studio.

 _What're you putting in motion? Just- Who ARE you and what do you want?!_

"You still can't figure out who I am?" I got a sheet of paper from JPG's desk and started drawing circles on it with a pencil. "Like, on one hand I appreciate being anonymous so you can't tell anyone who I am if I'm caught, but seriously?" I started connecting the circles and drawing some of the summoning runes around it. "Am I THAT unrecognizable?"

 _I...I seriously don't know who you are. Are you in the EPF handbook as a villain?_

"Uggghhhhhh. Not really, because apparently you guys didn't care enough about me to make an entry, but somehow SCORN qualifies?! You guys killed him! He showed up years ago and hasn't even shown any activity, but /I/ have to be a hidden easter egg?!" There was a sizzling noise somewhere. I looked around and it was my pencil burning a bit. I quickly shook it and let it cool for a few seconds before I could put the final touches on the drawing.

 _A rumor and no entry...? Um..._

"Y-Y'know what? Forget it. It's not that big a deal anyway. I'll make a big show out of it later." The drawing was finished. I fumbled around in JPG's drawers for the little swiss-army-knife-flip-phone-thing he has.

 _Wait a minute._

"Hm?" I picked out some small scissors from the phone.

 _Are...Are you Skip?_

"Took you long enough, genius. No wonder you're not in tech," I rolled my eyes even though no one could appreciate it, and I rolled up Jet's sleeves before I jabbed the scissors into JPG's wing.

Pain shot through my arm like a lightning bolt, and I had to press down on the desk to keep from recoiling.

" _WOO_! GOOD **LORD** , MAN!" I let some blood drip onto the drawing, but I was almost shaking from how cool this felt. Ninety precent sure I was grinning like a doofus, but I could barely feel my face.

 _WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?! WHAT ARE YOU_ _DOING_ _?! THAT'S_ _MY_ _ARM!_

"That's part of the reason I DON'T CARE ABOUT IT THAT MUCH!" I grimaced as I took the scissors out, but I was still giddy from jabbing them in, so I had a perpetual smile on for a while. The blood was starting to move and shift onto the drawing's lines. "Man...It's...It's been a while since I've, like, actually felt pain. Getting stunned isn't anything like it." I staggered over to Jet's training area and half-heartedly wrapped some bandages around the cut. Jet was still throwing a tantrum and calling me a freak and whatever, but he started correcting me whenever I wrapped the bandages wrong.

 _...No, you idiot. It's supposed to be tighter. And can you please center it more around the cut? What is wrong with you? Did you- Were you seriously enjoying that?_

"Can't help it if I'm nasty," I said, smirking even though Jet wouldn't see it. "Plus, I feed off pain, and being a shapeshifter that sucks at making nerves means that I don't usually get to do stuff like-"

"Hello?" said a high pitched voice. It was coming from the desk.

I scrambled to get back into Jet's desk chair. The runes inside the circle had disappeared, leaving only a fuzzy image of a bird-like creature wearing some cheap jewelry. "Hey! Dude, long time no see," I said. I tried to prop the paper up on some of Jet's office supplies for a better view.

"...Who is this?"

"Don't recognize me? Oh, wait, right. Possession." I quickly facepalmed. "I'm an idiot. It's Skip. Hi Hummer!"

"Oh! Skip, it's been ages! Hey, you didn't use your host's blood for this, right?"

"Uhhh...well, see-"

"Why do you have to be so dramatic? I feel bad for the poor guy you're wearing."

"I haven't felt any pain in like, a month! Plus, you gotta admit that the connection's better than usual."

"True, I guess. You're gross. Anyway, uh, do you need something, or...?"

"Yeah, actually!" I took out another sheet of paper and started scribbling names down as fast as I could. "I'm gonna try to take over Club Penguin again, but I'm pretty sure I need some more help this time."

"Is that the place I heard you tried to conquer a while ago? I'm not gonna ruin a kid's game for you."

"I know, and I'm not asking you to. BUT I know you're fast, and you're a good bro, so do you think you can just carry on the message to the spirits on this list?" I finished writing and slipped the paper through the portal.

There was a pause as she skimmed through the names. "This is a lot of people. Do you seriously expect that no one here is gonna try to take over CP while you're there?"

"Trust me. I've got everything planned out. I've done this before and I can do it again. Please?" I tried to pout, and it felt alien on Jet's face. Has he never pouted before?

"...Fiiine. Knowing you, some kids might manage to have fun while you're ruining everything they love," Hummer said, with a weary smile. "Is there a specific date, or does everyone have to camp out?"

"In a week, maybe two. Round up as many as you can, bro."

"I really hope I'm not gonna end up regretting this. You owe me a huge favor. See ya." The connection flickered out before I could say anything else.

 _...Who was that?_

"A friend of mine," I said as I reluctantly started filling out the next sheets of paper from Jet's dwindling work stack. "I mean, I don't know about you, but most people have more than one friend."

 _That's funny. I didn't think a scumbag like you had any friends._

"Wow. Harsh. You talk to ALL the bad guys here like that?"

 _Yes, actually. If someone tries to destroy or take over my home, and if they have the audacity to want to try again after failing, there's no reason for me to be nice._

"Okay, Edgy McEdge. You sure you don't belong in like, Call of Duty, or something?"

 _What?_

"Nothing." I hate no one getting my references here. "Hey, seeing as how I've got a week to kill just controlling you so you don't tell anyone about all this, why don't we get to know each other better?" I rushed through the last few papers. "I'll go first. What do you do in your free time?"

 _If this is some sick way of trying to be my friend, I'm not falling for it._

"I'm just trying to make conversation! Geez." I looked over Jet's place again, really soaking it in for the first time. Weeks with this guy, and I barely knew him aside from his dreams and his weirdly accurate memory of all things EPF.

Half of the igloo was business. A desk (which I was sitting at), his pet goldfish, Flash, in a fishbowl on the desk, some filing cabinets, a small makeshift area dedicated to exercise and weights, and the little cabinet thing nearby that was stocked full of first-aid supplies and painkillers.

The other half was arguably normal. A plain bed, a nightstand, a small pet bed for his jet pack (I still can't get over that), a basic kitchen with a mini-fridge, a door leading to the bathroom (there's a toilet there, but I've never seen Jet use it. I worry) and one of those big, outdated, cube-shaped TVs surrounded by CD tower racks. There was a big TV stand for it with extra drawers holding his pet goldfish's food and other stuff that I haven't seen yet.

"What do you have to do for today? I can't remember."

 _Not telling_ , he thought, in one of those mocking-sing-songy ways.

"Don't be rude," I said as I picked out the wrench from his old flip-phone. I aimed it against Flash's fishbowl. "Say, this thing can go down in one hit, right?"

 _You wouldn't._

"I just made you stab yourself in the arm."

 _...Okay, you would. You have to deposit the paperwork you just did in the tactics mailbox over at the EPF. There's also some field training I have scheduled with Rookie for tomorrow, but-_

"He's still recovering from the robots beating him up."

 _Exactly, so it's cancelled, but Rookie will probably show up anyway._ There was a moment where I couldn't get a read on Jet's emotions, so he probably just felt joy or...maybe something else.

I put away the wrench and scissors (they were still a bit bloody) and shuffled the phone under some old files just in case. "Do you have a crush on Rookie, Jet?" I asked idly.

 _I- what? No. No, it's uh. It's complicated._ Too many mushy feelings for me to get a read on.

"So you're super gay for him, is what I'm getting from that."

 _NO! It's complicated! I don't think you'd be able to get it, anyway._

"Okay, okay. Touchy." I had to suppress a giggle. "Anyway, are the mailboxes those cubby things over behind the computers on the tech floor?"

 _Yeah._

"UGGHHHH." I slid on JPG's jetpack.

 _Why are you being so dramatic?_

"'Cuz going out and pretending to be you SUUUUCKS." I got all the papers and put a rubber band around it like Jet always does.

 _Is it because you've never worked an honest day in your life? Or because you can't stand seeing penguins happy?_

"Hey now. Hey. I work hard. Just because my thing is turning entire dimensions into horrible places and your thing is being a cop doesn't mean you're better than me." I got Jet's current phone out. "Plus, who said I hate happiness? It's just that I can't really survive on positive emotions alone, and a guy's gotta eat, right?" I pressed the button to teleport to the EPF before Jet could retort.

Navigating through people and having to act like you've known them for years is super tiring. I mean, I'm good at it, some of the more alert penguins even congratulated Jet on getting "Gerard" out of his system and I managed to fake a convincing "yup I'm back in business" reaction, but /gosh/. I just wanna hole up in Jet's igloo all day and make fun of him. At least no one commented on the bloody bandages where I stabbed Jet.

Before I could make my way over to the EPF mailboxes, an almost squeaky "HEY!" rang out. I tried very hard to hide the exasperation I felt as I had to turn around and see Rookie awkwardly trying to waddle/run toward me with crutches.

He barely stopped a few inches in front of me, backed up, and then spoke between huffs from trying to run.

"Hey, uh...look this is, probably gonna sound really weird, but, Jet's with you, right?"

"...What?"

"Like, is he invisible or hiding or something?"

Oh geez. "Rookie, I'm right here."

He chuckled. "No, you're not really Jet, but you're doing a pretty good job of dressing up as him. Seriously, I really wanna talk to him. Where is he?"

I felt Jet nagging at the back of my/his head. I lowered my voice and looked Rookie in the eyes. "If this is a joke or something, it's not funny. Did the agents in the med bay say that you suffered from head trauma?"

"Well, yeah, but-"

"It sounds to me like you didn't fully recover."

"They said I did!"

"Maybe they should check aga-"

"No, no, look." Rookie dropped his voice down almost to a whisper. "If you're scared or hiding in Jet or something, it's okay. I won't tell if it means I can talk to Jet again. It's not like you're evil or anything, right?"

...Welp. You can only go so far with a lie. I sighed and it was quiet for a bit.

"...So, is Jet with you or-"

"Yes, yeah, he's with me," I hissed. "And don't be so loud. Let me turn in some papers and meet me at my iggy ASAP."

"Don't you mean _Jet's_ iggy?" He waggled his eyebrows on the 'Jet'.

"Whatever makes you feel better," I said, as I got up to turn in the papers.

As I walked away, I heard a not-so-quiet "YES" come from behind me. I hate this.

 _How does it feel knowing your plan's not going to work?_ Jet said, in the smuggest mental voice possible.

"It'll work," I said under my breath. "Don't get so cocky." I turned to look at where Rookie was after I turned in the papers. He was already gone, probably ecstatic about being in Jet's igloo and getting to talk to him again.

"If I can go through with this, I'm breaking Rookie last. He's adorable," I thought. I took out Jet's phone and teleported back to his iggy.


End file.
